Dear Free-Market Republicans:
Hello! How are you? I am not so fine. I know that you-all are awful busy right now, what with all the shananigans and goings-on that seem to be occurrin' on Wail Street lately, but I just lost my job in the compass factory (no one knows where they're goin, I guess) and my house done been flooded out by some feller named Ike and my wife and kids just up and took off with some smart-mouth college boy from Macomb.
I know that I shouldn't have hit her with the ball-peen hammer after she was slow getting me my beer while I was watching 'Merican Gladiators on the TV, but I was that upset. Anyhoo, hittin' a women ain't that bad. Did you hear the one about how you tell a woman with two black eyes to make you a pie? You don't! You told her twice allready! Ha Ha! I'm almost as funny as that real old feller that's running for presindent against that funny-lookin guy from up north!
Now, let's get down to brass tacks. I seen on the TV how you're given a hog-pen full of money to a bunch of fancy-pants bankers with a lotta hyphens in their names who couldn't unstop them a septic tank if they lives depended on it. Now, ol' JD is in a fix hisself, and I know that I shouldn't of blown all my paycheck on nose-candy, marry-jew-wanna, and Mystique up at Deja View over in Springfield, but since I've voted 'Publican ever since I was old enough to vote ('ceptin those times when I forgot or was too hung over to make it or didn't feel like votin') I feel like you boys owe ol' JD a favor or two.
Now, I ain't asking for a million, billion, or trillion dollars. I'm not sure how you can print that much money. I guess you guys have a lot of paper and ink, is all I can say! But if you could see your way clear to sendin' old JD a couple thousand to pay the rent on the double-wide and maybe keep Mystique nice and happy, old JD would surely appreciate it. Mystique says that she would like to have her love-jugs enhanced, and all a feller can say to that is "Amen!".
I figger if you can buy all them other companies you can spare a little somethin for ol' JD. Otherwise, I might just think about sittin' this election out. The compass factory is going to be movin' to some place with a whole lotta vowels in its name, and I don't see the point of washing your behind if you-all ain't gonna wash mine. Reverend Jessup over the Church of the Gooey Death and the Discount House of Worship says that God helps those that help themselves, and I think that I'd like to help myself to a little bit of all that moolah that you been passin' out.
Yours Sincerely,
Ol' JD